kili's curls
by smartass.under.the.mountain
Summary: random kili smut . Yum ;-)


"Kee, we're going to be late!" you cried, breathless with laughter as he found yet another shadowed corner he hadn't kissed you in before. By your count, it was corner number 15 on the short trip from your room to the dining hall – a trip you could manage in three minutes when you walked alone – but all those thoughts flew out of your head when he stepped up, holding you against the wall, his arms on either side of your head. "Kee…" you panted lightly, the rest of his name lost in the dark recesses of his mouth, answered with a groan as your fingers tangled in his curly hair. So far, you had avoided the temptation, knowing that the tugging always drove him a touch further, but undeniably longing to bury your fingers in the silky strands. His body was firm against yours, almost instinctively insinuating his strong thigh between your legs at just the right angle to make you melt into his arms. "Kíli!" you laughed huskily, but made no protest when one of his quick-fingered hands slid down from the wall to cup your breast, pressing yourself more firmly against him as you felt his need pushing into your stomach.

"Fuck…!" he moaned darkly, tugging feverishly at the laces of your dress as his lips returned to yours, his other hand tangling in your golden hair, tipping your head back to allow him access to your throat. Rubbing yourself against his thigh, you felt him mutter something unintelligible against your collarbone, but you didn't care, lost in the pleasure the hard ridge of his muscular thigh brought you. Using the strands of his hair as handholds, you pushed his face down, hissing when his lips found your nipple. "How can I want you this much when I had you no more than an hour ago?" Kíli asked, though you had no answer to give, wanting him as badly, if not worse. Mewling in protest when his leg disappeared, you pulled his mouth back to yours, muffling your pants against his lips. Your tongues duelled, by now aware of just how to tease each other. Kíli lifted you, making you utter a sudden squeak, looking around the deserted corridor before his talented mouth drew all your attention back on him. Kíli cursed, and you instinctively dropped one hand from his head to help him free himself from his breeches you had laced up only half an hour earlier. Kíli hissed, sucking a bruise into your skin when your hand wrapped around him. "Mahal-cursed skirts!" he grumbled, trying to find the hem. You laughed, letting go of him to help hold up the yards of fabric. Kíli smirked, one arm still pressing you up against the wall, perfect height for what was coming, you knew, licking your lips and watching his eyes narrow at the gesture. When his questing fingers found you, his head rolled forward, bumping into your collarbone with a heartfelt groan.

"Kíli, I need you," you whispered, tugging his curls lightly. Kíli groaned again, but then you finally felt his touch, spreading your legs around him, cradling him in your grip. When he pressed in, you both hissed, feeling the stretch and pleasure of that first stroke all over again. Using the wall for leverage, Kíli's hands moved to your hips, snapping his own forward until you gasped out a breathy cry. "Kee," you begged, still tangling your fingers in his hair as you brought his mouth back to your breast. "More!" you moaned brokenly, spiralling higher with every thrust. "Please, Kee, more."

"You're so tight," he hissed, squeezing your arse in time with each thrust, until only your shoulders rested against the wall as he fucked you into a mind-blowing orgasm, moaning your name loudly as you squeezed rhythmically around him. "Fuck! How are you so tight?" he babbled, obviously not expecting an answer, his rhythm stuttering slightly.

"Kíli!" you cried out, yanking him back to your mouth to muffle his loud shout as he lost himself in your body. You continued kissing lazily, gentling your hold on his dark locks as he unclenched the fingers that had possibly left bruises on your arse, smoothing down your skirts as he helped you find your wobbly legs once more. He was still pressed tight against you, enjoying the way you rocked against him with each aftershock as he nimbly redid the laces on your dress. Kissing you gently, he stepped back, righting his own clothes as you stared at his hair, chuckling at the mess you'd made of his braids.

"It's fine," he shrugged, giving you a cheeky smile and a kiss. "I'm known for not wearing braids." With a light shrug, he pulled most of the clasps free, shaking his head until he looked much like he had during the quest.

"Kee," you groaned, nodding your head against his shoulder and tugging playfully at the long strands. "How am I supposed to keep my hands out of your hair now?" you asked, pouting up at him.

"You're not," he crowed, kissing you swiftly before dragging you down the corridor once more, "In fact, you have my royal permission to play with my hair any time… just remember what happens when you do," he added, squeezing your arse fondly as he opened the door.


End file.
